The Visit
by Sherlockobsessed
Summary: Sherlock gets a surprise visit from the woman he never thought he'd see again. Irene Adler; who seems to need his help desperately. All the while, John struggles to figure out how he feels about Sherlock. (Johnlock) PLEASE REVEIW!
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

John was at his and Sherlock's flat waiting on Sherlock himself. '_How can Sherlock be this rude and careless all of the time?' _John thought to himself. But the truth was that John didn't really mind. He needed Sherlock in his life. He realized it even more after the fall. When the detective returned to him, John was over come with so many emotions. For two years he went without seeing Sherlock's odd habits. Once he saw them again he realized that he missed not only having a friend and flatmate, but having a… Well, John didn't know what to call it.

John heard the door lock turn and Sherlock enter the flat. Sherlock looked up at John and said,

"You know, I do not need you to babysit me John." with a look of amusement on his face.

"I'd like to agree, however we both know better." John said. John himself was not amused at all. It was just like this of Sherlock to be so inconsiderate. But how could he stay mad? Looking at him now, Sherlock was wearing a tight black shirt and pants, his black hair in the usual mess of curls, and he had his adorable amused smile on his face. _Adorable? Where the hell did that thought come from?_ John thought to himself.

"John, you're staring." Sherlock said, breaking John from his thoughts.

"Oh… I um," John stumbled, "I'm tired is all, got lost in uh, my thoughts." John immediately regretted that choice of words. Because the only thing he got lost in were Sherlock's strikingly good looks.

Sherlock looked at John curiously. He stared for about a minute and then said, "Goodnight John." With a distressed sigh. Sherlock then gracefully walked into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

The next morning, Lestrade had asked to meet Sherlock and John at the police station. Sherlock and John were in the car driving there. "So why do you think Lestrade wanted to see in person?" John asked, breaking the silence.

"Well, for a case obviously." Sherlock stated as though it were obvious. And honestly it was obvious. What wasn't clear was why Lestrade hadn't said why they were to meet at the police station. Usually they knew what the case was on or had some sort if idea.

"Oh of course, but why not tell us what the case was?" John asked.

"Oh John, isn't it obvious? The case must be too important to simply call or text about." Sherlock chuckled as they pulled into the parking lot.

As the two of them walked into lestrade's office, Sherlock stopped right in his tracks. John looked up at his taller companion and saw the look of shock on Sherlock's face.

Sitting at Lestrade's desk was none other than Irene Adler.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sherlock barked.

"Oh my, well, is that anyway to say hello to an old friend?" Irene said with a wink. John took in Irene's features. He could easily see why Sherlock was always so befuddled when around her. She was breathtaking. She had long red hair, full ruby lips, and a gorgeous body… to say the least. But Sherlock didn't ask as to why she wasn't in America, and John was quite curious to know two things.

-_Why isn't she dead?_

_ -How does Sherlock seem to know more than I do?_

"Ah yes, where are my manners, how have you been mate?" Sherlock said sarcastically. "And where is Detective Lestrade?"

"I've been quite good, America has been treating me well, but I just had to come and visit you Sherlock." Irene said, ignoring Sherlock's lack of attention.

"Where is Lestrade?" This time it was John who asked.

"Oh John, do you mind giving Sherlock and I a moment to catch up?" Irene said as she batted her eyelashes. John glanced at Sherlock who was looking out the window, apparently thinking. John nodded, and quickly left, deciding that it was better to let Irene explain to Sherlock why she was here.

"Lestrade didn't need you, I simply borrowed his phone, seeing as I knew you wouldn't come meet me if you knew it was me." Irene said as she poured two cups of tea and handed one the Sherlock.

"Are you bloody mad? Why is it that you just had to come back to London? Because you and I both know it wasn't for myself." Sherlock said.

"Oh, but it was all for you Sherlock." Irene said softly. "All I've done is not only for my protection, but for yours. Why did you think I never wanted you to see the phone? If you'd known what was on there, you'd be long dead by now. "

"Is that what you think? Well why come back now?" Sherlock said as he glared at the woman.

"Because Sherlock. I need your help." Irene said. She looked less confident now, almost vulnerable. She reached out and touched Sherlock's arm. Sherlock looked down at her hand and turned toward the window once more.

"What situation presents itself that requires my assistance? You seem restless, which tells me it's something that hits close to home. By the way you are clutching that locket, it shows that it involves a lover or family member. Whomever gave you the locket must've been wealthy, I assume he has gone missing and you wish for me to find him." Sherlock said with a bored tone.

"Close, not a lover. A brother. Yours."

Sherlock spun around and spat out,

"Why would you need Mycroft?"

"Isn't it clear though? The lover in which you spoke of is looking for your brother. As it seems, Mycroft has something that doesn't belong to him. Something of his. All I need is to get him alone and retrieve what belongs to my lover " Irene said.

"What interest would my brother have in some American, what is it, professor or stockbroker?" Sherlock said with a look of distaste on his face.

"You truly are brilliant, and yes, he is professor." Irene as though she was in awe.

"Yes, yes now will you please spit out what you where saying?" Sherlock snapped. Irene remained calm and unfazed as she spoke.

"Their connection isn't relevant, but Mycroft is. Will you please help me?"

"Once you tell me their connection, I'll consider it."

"Your brother has a massive grudge against him. And that is all I can say." Irene said reluctantly. Sherlock searched her face for clues. But as he often found with Irene, there was nothing to read.

"Yes, well I presumed that. What is your _lovers_ name." Sherlock said with a hint of disgust on the word lover.

"So does this mean you promise to help me?" Irene said hopefully.

"I suppose I could assist." Sherlock said with a sigh. He had no idea why he agreed to do this. After all, this woman had drugged him, outwitted him, and made a fool of him. And not only did he agree, he just promised to help. But something made him want to help her. Maybe it was the look in her eyes of total hopelessness. As though without Sherlock, she'd die. Sherlock hadn't ever felt this way before. But he could relate. If he ever lost John, he'd surely would wish to die. "But of course I'll need a name." He repeated.

Irene sighed in relief. "Please don't tell him I came to visit you he'd surely be enraged-"

"Name." Sherlock interrupted. He didn't want to sit and chat about this man.

"You happen to know him Sherlock." Irene said. When Sherlock raised his eyebrow in question, she sighed.

"_**His name is Jim Moriarty."**_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Sherlock took a step away, Irene's smile instantly faded when she saw Sherlock's face twisted in anger.

"How dare you! You attempt to fool me by leading the man who wishes to kill me straight to me. Well, Irene Adler, you can go to hell!" Sherlock shouted. Irene put down her tea and said,

"Do you honestly think I told Jim where I was going?" She laughed. "He go mad!"

"He already is mad." Sherlock said with a scowl. "You've wasted my time, I thought I'd be helping you, not that little prick." The amount of hatred Sherlock felt for Irene right then was indescribable. He read the look on her face and with a sigh added, "Of course I know Moriarty isn't dead. Why would a man kill himself before his 'evil plan' is almost finished." Sherlock had known this to be true for a while now. A few months after the fall, while he was still in hiding, he got a visit from Moriarty. Moriarty told him that he was going to destroy him for good this time. He then said that if Sherlock didn't find him, he'd find Sherlock. And now he had.

"If I help, will you promise to leave me alone and never tell Moriarty?" Sherlock asked.

"Well of course!" Irene said as she batted her eyelashes.

"You think I actually trust your word?" Sherlock spat out to her. "Your word means nothing to me, I will need some assurance."

Irene looked at him, smiled sweetly and said, "How about this-" Her sweet smile was replaced with a sinister one. "You help or John dies."

"What are you talking about?" Sherlock enquired. His heartbeat had sped up and he felt as though he was going to throw up. He peeked out of the office, and saw that John was still waiting. Sherlock sighed in relief and looked back to Irene. "Here" He took out a pad of paper and pencil and wrote Mycroft's address on it. Irene looked at it and laughed.

"Of course I know where he lives, Sherlock. I want you to find him. He isn't home. Bring him to me."

With a sigh, Sherlock pulled out his phone and called Mycroft.

_M- Hello_

_S- Mycroft, I need to talk with you._

_M- What do you call what we are doing right down?_

_S- __meet me at the warehouse on 17__th__ street at 4pm._

Sherlock hung up and glanced at Irene.

"Are you happy now?" Sherlock snarled.

"Very." Irene said. Irene stood up and said, "I no longer need your assistance. Moriarty and I are very grateful to you."

"You repulse me." Sherlock snapped as he left Lestrade's office.

John had been waiting outside of the office for quite a while now. Just as he considered going in there, Sherlock rushed out. "Well?' John asked.

"What." Sherlock said it more as a statement rather than a question.

"What did Ms. Adler want?"

"Nothing. Forget it. What matters is that you and I are together again." Sherlock said.

"Together?" John repeated. The fact that Sherlock said together made John completely forget about Irene.

"Yes, you and me. Remember John? The whole, 'I came back form the dead' deal?" Sherlock said sarcastically. However he said this with a smile on his face. John blushed, as Sherlock locked eyes with John, he said, "Let's go home" And with those words, John practically melted.

Once they got back to the flat it was only 2 in the afternoon. John was in his room thinking.

_I shouldn't be thinking things like this about Sherlock._

_He's my flatmate._

_He's straight for Christ sake!_

_But he's brilliant and gorgeous._

_I think I love him._

_I know I love him._

_I have to tell him._

John got up and started to pace. _ Should I tell him? What if he leaves me? What if rejects me? _

"John, what's wrong?" Sherlock had popped his head in John's door.

"Oh, er- nothing." John said lamely. Sherlock looked at John and sighed.

"It doesn't take a consulting detective to guess what is going on here." Sherlock said.

John's pulse sped up rapidly as Sherlock came closer. "What, do you mean?" John asked once he regained composer.

Sherlock leaned into John and whispered, "Your feelings for me will fade, I know they will." And with that Sherlock walked out. John followed him, slightly outraged.

"The hell Sherlock? You can't honestly say that to someone! And how would you possibly know anyway?"

Sherlock turned to face him and smiled. "It doesn't take deducting skills to see that you have feelings for me John." Sherlock said. John blushed thinking of how stupid he was to let his feelings cloud his judgment. "John, don't be foolish. I obviously also have feelings for you. This is simply because of the trauma we both went through while I was in hiding. You realized, just as I did, that you needed me just like I need you. Now that I'm back, it's natural for us to feel attracted to one another."

"How can you say these feelings will fade?" John whispered. His voice was strained with hurt. Sherlock looked up and back down to his friend.

"That's just what I told myself John, the truth is-" In mid sentence, there was an abrupt knock, ruining the moment. John sighed and opened the door. There was none other than Mycroft.

"Sherlock, you fool, what did you do?" Mycroft roared. "I came to meet you and you never showed. I went back to my house only to find it ransacked. One thing was missing. And I know that you know what that is."

"No, I don't know what was missing, I deduce, I don't see the future." Sherlock said, ignoring John's confused expressions.

"I don't know why or how, but someone who had your help, stole your forged death certificate with Molly's and my self's signature on it. Now that someone has it, Molly, you and I could go to prison for fraud."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Prison?!" John shouted with a crack in his voice. He looked from Sherlock to Mycroft, both of which appeared infuriated with another. The room was stone silent. No one said anything. Sherlock abruptly inhaled sharply. As he turned to sit down his black curls swung in his eyes.

"Not to worry Mycroft. If Moriarty wanted to kill me, he wouldn't send me to prison. He just wants to scare me." Sherlock said. "So, brother, be on your way now, and don't think too hard. You may hurt yourself. " Sherlock added with a smirk.

"I'm glad you find this so bloody funny." Mycroft growled. "If he doesn't want to use it, why take it? He will use it don't you see? He doesn't want you to die, he wants all of your friends to die."

"Mycroft, you aren't my friend. Why do I care if you go to prison, and if you're in prison, you're not dead." Sherlock said, poking holes in Mycroft's theory.

"Please Sherlock, ever since John came into your life, you've developed emotions. Don't deny it, we all see it. And even if you don't care about me, I know you care about Molly. Because let's be honest, she won't make it in prison. And you don't want the woman who is in love with you, who saved your life, and three of your closest friends lives, to be locked away for your mess." Mycroft lectured. At this point, John had come to the conclusion that Irene was involved in this, which then meant so was Moriarty, which also meant Moriarty wasn't dead. Once John came to this conclusion, he felt sick to his stomach, the man who tried to kill the man John loved; was still alive. And not only was he alive, he'd come back for Sherlock. And this time he was going after their friends.

The next morning, John woke up to Sherlock rummaging threw Johns dresser drawer. "Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?" John grumbled. John had hardly slept last night. And when he did sleep, Moriarty haunted his dreams.

"Gathering data of course." Sherlock said. Sherlock seemed unfazed by the fact that the only thing john was wearing was his bed sheet.

"Gathering data?" John said as he rubbed his eyes. As he realized he was only wearing a bed sheet, his cheeks turned pink. "What kind on data?"

"Well, Moriarty wants my friends dead, so who is he thinking like?" Sherlock explained, all while not looking up from John's drawer. "If I need to think like Moriarty, then, I need to think like you." Sherlock finished looking through that drawer and moved on.

"Well, I think I'll go get dressed." John mumbled, wrapping the sheet around him and grabbing a pile of clothing. He rushed into the bathroom. John stared in the mirror.

"_The truth is…_ "Sherlock's silky voice engraved in John's head. With a sigh, John got dressed and went into the kitchen to find Sherlock, who appeared to be in his _mind palace_.

"I'm out to the store Sherlock." John said. Sherlock mumbled some type of reply and went back to his mind palace. John sighed and left.

Sherlock got up as soon ad John walked out the door. Sherlock pulled his phone out of his pocket and reread the message.

_Meet me… you know where to go. Come alone. –IA_

Sherlock contemplated for the next few minutes, in the end he decided to go. He needed answers. As soon as he knew John was far enough away not to see Sherlock leave, he left. The drive there was quite long. Sherlock was going to use it to compose his thoughts, however he couldn't quite thinking about John.

_Why the hell does John love me too? He's much too good for me. And whom am I kidding? Trauma? I've loved him ever since I met John. _

And it was true. The moment Sherlock met eyes with John, he knew. If Sherlock ever had a chance of being in a relationship before John, it was gone. Because John had unknowingly stolen Sherlock's heart. Sherlock knew that John shared these feelings for him soon after he first started watching John. John's depression was far to emotionally attach for a friendship. Even by the time Sherlock had been gone for a year, John would still break down every time he walked into the flat and saw Sherlock's chair. But Sherlock knew the risk was to high, he couldn't bear losing John for good.

As Sherlock parked the car and went inside, he felt wrong. The text Irene sent was far too impersonal of her. When, on occasion he got a text from her, they seemed to be composed as though she meant to send it to her lover. _Her lover. Moriarty. _Sherlock scowled just at the thought of him. He pushed his feelings aside and walked on in. Irene was sitting down. Something was wrong, Irene had been crying, her face was bleeding, her hands tied together.

"Well, well, well, and to think, I thought you were smarter than to come. And what did you tell your boyfriend?" The voice chuckled. Sherlock spun around expecting to come face to face with Moriarty. But it wasn't Moriarty.

_**It was Anderson.**_

__ Please Review If I should continue. I EXPECT REVEIWS THIS TIME!_ And if not, I will be outraged and will kill off John and Sherlock. And NO ONE wants that to happen. (PS chapter five is for sure Johnlock )


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Anders-"

"Oh do shut up Sherlock, _you'll lower the IQ of the whole street." _Anderson said in a mocking tone. Lestrade appeared behind Anderson.

"Ah Sherlock, so you did come. Yes, it's quite strange, perhaps you can explain. We got a call about a gunshot and came to investigate. Ms. Adler was like this when we arrived on the scene.

"And you left her tied up!?" Sherlock roared. Anderson shrugged while Lestrade scratched his head.

"Anyway, we searched the area and found her phone. We saw the text to you and knew you'd come." Lestrade explained.

"Yes, it was very disappointing to learn that the little prick was still alive." Anderson said (referring to Sherlock) unaware of his surroundings. Sherlock quickly untied Irene, ignoring Anderson. Irene looked up with scared wide eyes as Sherlock untied her. Once she was untied, she began to sob.

"Mor-Moriarty… h-he was so mad… kill me... then Mycroft… gun…" Irene mumbled in between sobs.

"Shh,shhh." Sherlock said. "Anderson, take miss Adler to her car, calm her down." Sherlock ordered. Anderson complied and guided her to his car. "Well, Moriarty and Mycroft were here." Sherlock said to Lestrade.

"Yes, listen, I don't want you working this case, you're to involved." Lestrade told Sherlock gently. "Go home, be with John."

"What to you mean, 'be with John'?" Sherlock spat at him. When Lestrade gave him a puzzled look, Sherlock swiftly rushed out.

When he walked out to his car, Anderson was standing over something, awkwardly trying to calm a VERY distressed Irene Adler. He walked over to find a dead body.

It was the body of Jim Moriarty. Sherlock mumbled a sorry for your loss and walked was. Sherlock was in a complete daze. Irene obviously didn't kill Moriarty. So that left Mycroft. Mycroft had killed Moriarty. And now he would go to prison. Even though he told his brother that he didn't care if he ended up in prison, he did care. He couldn't let Mycroft go to prison over Moriarty. Mycroft was protecting Sherlock. As he went to his car he noticed a piece of paper in the drivers seat. It was his forged death certificate. With a light chuckle Sherlock got into his car.

He got home quite a bit later. Waiting for him was of course, John. "Sherlock, we need to talk." John said.

"Not down John, I need to find Mycroft." Sherlock said as he reached for the phone.

"What, why?" John asked. John had been waiting for Sherlock to come home to try to pick up their conversation from the night before. He turned to face John.

"It seems Moriarty was killed by Mycroft earlier this morning." John did nothing to hide his smile. _Moriarty is dead… for good._ The thought made him feel like there was nothing that could stop him and Sherlock from being together now. Well, aside from Sherlock himself. Sherlock picked up the phone ad called Mycroft.

_S- Come to my flat. Now._

_M- Hello little brother, skipping the greeting I see?_

_S- Come. Now._

_M- I can't Sherlock. I'm busy. If you want to know about Moriarty, yes I did kill him. And Lestrade is here at my house right now._

_S- So, prison right?_

_M- No, of course not! I'm a hero! I saved Ms. Adler. When I arrived, Moriarty had Ms. Adler at gunpoint yelling and screaming at her. I engaged in a fight, wrangled the gun and shot him 8 times. _

Sherlock hung up. He was horrified by Mycroft's proudness in it, he was also thrilled by the fact Moriarty truly was dead.

"I need to go to bed John, we will talk tomorrow." Sherlock spoke as he walked into his room.

The next afternoon, There was a knock on the door, Sherlock rose to answer it and it was none other than Irene Adler.

"What do you want?" Sherlock growled at Irene.

"Just came to visit an old friend." She said with a smile. "Well, Jim told me that if the day ever came that he should not be around, to give this to you." She handed him an envelope. Sherlock tore the envelope open and read:

_SH-_

_ Don't be too happy. The game may be over, but there will be a rematch._

_ -JM_

"Bloody hell, what are you going to try to kill me now?" Sherlock scoffed.

"Don't be silly, I have no idea what he meant by that. Who knows, The man was senile." She said with a smile and laugh. Her expression softened. "Sherlock, this is my goodbye to you."

"I know. Off to America I presume. 5 pm, right?" Sherlock said.

"Truly brilliant." Irene said with an expression of amazement. She leaned in and smelled Sherlock's sweet scent and took in his beautiful features on more time. She then planted a peck on his cheek and left.

Sherlock stood at the door watching Irene Adler walk away. He knew he'd never see her again. He wasn't happy nor sad at that thought. Her gone certainly made things with John easier. _John._ Sherlock went into John's room and saw John's room empty. Sherlock picked up the note on his bed.

_Sherlock-_

_Hanguer's, Tonight at six._

Sherlock smiled. John just invited him out on a date. He felt like a teenager about to go on his first date. He put the note in his pocket and sat down.

_Tonight, I will tell John that I want us to be together._

_I don't care about the risk._

And he didn't. He couldn't go on seeing John without being with him. Everything about John was so damn tempting. Sherlock felt like an idiot around him. Even though John said he was brilliant, Sherlock felt like a fool. Why had he waited this long to tell John how he feels? It was childish of him. Sherlock got ready, he was wearing a white button down shirt and black pants.

He got to the restaurant at 6:02. John was there, waiting, nervously checking his watch. Sherlock walked over to John and sat across from him.

"Sherlock, we need to ta-" John began. Sherlock interrupted him,

"**John, I love you."**

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**PLEASE REVIEW! EVEN IF YOU DIDN'T LIKE IT, I'D LOVE TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

John stared at Sherlock. For a moment he forgot that they where in a restaurant full of people. To John, He and Sherlock were the only people in the world. He broke out into a wide grin. Without hesitation, he leaned over the small table and gave Sherlock a friendly kiss that lasted a beat too long.

"Let's go home John." Sherlock said. And to John, it sounded like music to his ears.

They took a taxi back too 221B baker street, the whole ride they were holding hands. When they got into their flat, John turned to face Sherlock. John took in his beautiful features. His jet-black hair, his deep brown eyes, and oh, his cheekbones….

"Sherlock-" John started. He was interrupted when Sherlock grabbed his waist and pulled hi near. Sherlock looked into his eyes and kissed him with passion. As John was being kissed, it felt like the most natural thing ever. Even when his tongue met Sherlock's he felt as though he'd been kissing men all his life.

They slowly made their way to the couch and Sherlock got on top of john. He started to kiss John's neck and made his way back up to his mouth. Then, he decided john's shirt was getting in the way of their kissing skills, so he slowly took John's shirt off, then his own. He stood up, and striped the rest of his clothes off, and grabbed John's hand. They then proceeded to the bedroom.

_And we all know what happened next ;)_

_I meant the happily ever after, get your mind out of the gutter…_

**THE END.**

**TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT, COMMENTS, SUGGESTIONS… E.T.C**


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